


Doughnut?

by TevinterPariah



Series: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency One-Shots [4]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: (technically is and its implied and we don't know otherwise), Asexual Dirk Gently, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Dirk and Bart would be great friends given the chance in this essay I will-, Episode: s02e05 Shapes and Colors, Episode: s02e06 Girl Power, Fluff and Angst, Gen, It's basically just why and how Dirk ends up in Bart's cell, Missing Scene, Pining, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), Sound Of Nothing, jealous Dirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 17:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TevinterPariah/pseuds/TevinterPariah
Summary: The holistic detective wasn’t often confused. Well, that was a lie. He was always quite confused especially of late, especially with the whole bubblegum prince, purple people eater, and murder-y fun house nonsense that he was supposed to connect. But this was a different sort of confusion he didn’t quite understand or know how to deal with.  So here he was, in a prison cell, with the homicidal dirt muppet who apparently wanted to stop the whole homicide deal. Go figure.- - -Missing Scene fic set between 02x05 "Shapes and Colors" and 02x06 "Girl Power" that occurs during the Sound of Nothing afterparty in which Bart and Dirk bond after Dirk unceremoniously flees the scene after having made out with Todd.
Relationships: Bart Curlish & Dirk Gently, Bart Curlish & Panto Trost, Farah Black/Todd Brotzman, Todd Brotzman/Dirk Gently
Series: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/805182
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Doughnut?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got obsessed with DGHDA again because of the "Socially Distant Dirk" and I am unable to be helped anymore as this show has re-taken over my life. I am in Brotzly hell, it's wonderful. 
> 
> But so Colors and Shapes? The glow sticks. We all agree something 11/10 went down, yes? But like, I was baffled by the whole Bart cell deal so here's my explanation™

The holistic detective wasn’t often confused. Well, that was a lie. He was always quite confused especially of late, especially with the whole bubblegum prince, purple people eater, and murder-y fun house nonsense that he was supposed to connect. But this was a different sort of confusion he didn’t quite understand or know how to deal with. 

He did it, under the influence of whatever peace or love or whatever-spell was cast on them. He snogged his combination assistant-best friend. There were hands, glow sticks, very little clothing, and a cowboy hat. It was, very much, everything he had been imagining for as long as he could imagine since knowing Todd. And it all being under some magically induced circumstances was so very frustratingly them. He had been trying _so_ hard for things to be normal. He desperately wanted to just investigate things like a _normal_ detective, and have _normal_ relationships. But he was an anomaly, so why would a rather charged makeout session with the man he fancied be any different.

But then he unceremoniously fled. The whole situation in the police station was a squick uncomfortable if he is being completely blunt, not really understanding all that had been going on was all about. Of course, many people there were rather attractive and he of course had feelings beyond best-friendliness with Todd for quite some time now, but it hadn’t felt right even under the influence of whatever he was under the influence of. So here he was, in a prison cell, with the homicidal dirt muppet who apparently wanted to stop the whole homicide deal. Go figure. 

He really hadn’t wanted to leave Todd, per se, but he felt compelled to just get out of there as fast as he could and what better way to not be found right now amidst the crowd of very sweaty and very touchy music festival-goers than in a prison cell. 

He should have dragged Todd along, but he didn’t. He was probably with Farah right now, which is _fine._ Like they said they are adults and could do what they want, but he doesn’t have to be happy about it. His best friend could snog his other best friend all he wants. It was _so_ fine and not at all slightly jealousy-inducing. Why would it be? It’s not. Especially not after he had gotten all the closer to Todd who had been his emotional anchor of the late when the rest of the world went to Judeo-Christian hell in rural Montana and wherever Wendimoor is _if_ Wendimoor is. And not, of course, because Todd made his entire life that evening when he let him know how much the holistic detective had changed his life and meant to him.

He’s a mixture of being on cloud nine and utterly confused with himself and where one even goes from here. He doesn’t even know if people will even remember things or will change after the spell wears off in the morning. He’s not exactly sure which he would prefer in this mess of a situation. But then again, he doesn’t know anything, _ever._ If he’s learned anything since Mona sent him here, it’s that he’s more certain that he’s a blunder of a detective who is drawn to danger and his incompetence is what gets people killed in the crossfire. Maybe that’s how he ended up with the holistic assassin at the moment. She had opened her cell with a strangely pleased look on her face when he came for a place to hide. He unceremoniously threw himself on the very uncomfortable bunk bed when he was let in because that was about his mental state. 

After he’s been staring up at the upper bunk, in somewhat of a daze for quite some time the girl in her disheveled uniform and mop of hair looks up at him curiously from the floor where she’s drawing her best rendition of a bearded man with a scissors sword similar to that of Panto. She cocks her head and offers him half of what he can only assume is a doughnut, which he isn’t entirely sure how she got, considering she has been imprisoned for the past few days, “Doughnut?”

He furrows his eyebrows a bit at the offer and sits up in the bed, pulling the bubblegum pink faux fur jacket he doesn’t quite remember where he got closer to him. 

“It’s not poisoned or anything,” She says as she offers the pastry a bit more insistently. “I’m not going to kill you. I don’t do that anymore. Even if I did, I don’t think you’re my target,” she says with a shrug. 

The words are strangely comforting in his state and he still feels too intoxicated by the spell to further question anything. He hesitantly takes the doughnut and nibbles on it, instantly feeling the comforting wave of sweetness wash over him. As he takes another bite he looks at the feral little woman curiously, “Why are you being kind to me? Considering, well, our history?”

“My other best friend was like, you know—” she says making a somewhat disturbing attempt at a smile, “when I gave him a doughnut so I thought, maybe, you would like one too?” 

Dirk almost smiles at her childlike attempt at making friends and providing emotional comfort, it was altogether unexpected of her. Not after, almost being murdered by her three times and having heard all of the horror stories at Blackwing. They always said there was a reason she was kept away from the rest of them. Sometimes, he, as a less dangerous anomaly, was allowed to interact with subjects like Mona, but never Project Marza— Bart. He nods at her, “Well, thank you, Bart. I appreciate it.” 

“We’re practically best friends too, so,” she says with another shrug before going back to her stick figure drawing of the fantasy man. Dirk watches her as she finishes it and hangs it up on the wall of the cell next to her crudely drawn renditions of Wendimoor’s bubblegum prince and Ken, who he assumes is the man she had been traveling with who fixed Patrick Spring’s Machine. 

The blaring music and sounds emanating from the police station that Todd was definitely partaking in had been putting him rather on edge despite whatever had come over them, so he supposes he’ll be unusually chatty with the holistic assassin. He takes another bite of the doughnut and asks, “Who’s that?” 

She jumps onto the bed next to him in a gangly and bizarre way and sits next to him. She whispers in his ear, “That’s Panto’s boyfriend,” before looking at him and letting out what the detective can only presume is a laugh at revealing the secret. He was completely unaware that Wendimoor’s currently sleeping prince had a paramour. Good for Panto. 

He smiles at her weakly and nods to appease her, before Bart cocks her head at him again, “Where is yours?”

He chokes on air at the insinuation, “I beg your pardon.” 

“You know, the guy who you were being kissy and huggy with in the weird pants,” she says with a contorted smirk on her face. _Ah. Todd_. At least he can thank whatever being is out there, that she had seen them while they both still had pants on. 

“Oh. That’s Todd. He’s just my best friend,” Dirk says nonchalantly with the shake of his head, trying to play it off. He’s totally not internally wishing the ‘just’ was non-existent per usual, that would be preposterous. He knew he couldn’t get any closer than he had already gotten with Todd because of his streak. The closer they had gotten, the more willing Todd was to risk his life and follow his befuddling irrational hunches that inevitably lead to certain death. He knows he’s a liability and there’s a reason that he was assigned the title that he was. Here he is, now finally having a friend, but it’s still not enough: A regular Icarus ever flying too close to the sun. 

Bart pulls him out of his thoughts with a light elbow, that still hurts quite a bit, but he can tell it’s not malicious and she’s unused to physical contact and her own strength. He supposes the both of them are unused to the whole human contact thing. Perks of being experimented on by the government for powers you did not want in the first place and all that.

“Yeah, but you and Ken and Panto are my best friends and we don’t do that?” She says as she cocks her head at the detective again. She doesn’t seem to be being blunt, just confused. Maybe they weren’t so different aside from being polar opposites in the whole solving murder and committing murder deal. 

Dirk lets out a small groan at the comment, not really wanting to think of the implications of this wonderful yet incredibly misguided by means out of his control evening. “I would prefer to not talk about it,” he mumbles as he curls closer into himself in the bed. 

Bart looks at him again in all her messy childlike curiosity, “Why? You wanna go to sleep or something?” 

Actually, that sounds like quite a good idea. He needs to sleep it off and would rather pretend whatever is going on outside that is quite squicky is not occurring. He lets out a fake yawn to try and be more convincing and says, “Well. Yes. _Yes_ , I am quite exhausted.” 

“Okay, good of you to talk, though,” Bart says, looking at him like a sad puppy dog. She perhaps enjoyed whatever bizarre little moment the anomalies had on a bunk bed in a prison cell? She climbs up to the top bunk in a flurry before dangling her head down again to face him. “Goodnight Dirk,” she says before whipping back up again, bouncing on the bunk above him. 

“Goodnight Bart,” He says, shaking his head with the ghost of a smile as he cuddles into the faux fur jacket and rather uncomfortable bed. He hadn’t really expected that his almost murderer three times over would be of comfort to him on a rather befuddling evening, but here he is. He supposes of the influence of the spell was enough to make the impossibility that Todd wanted to passionately snog him if not _much_ more possible, _anything_ was possible. That included befriending his local holistic dirt muppet. 

He knows he is probably going to regret it all in the morning, despite not really having a choice in what happened and all, but it’s _fine._ It’s all going to be fine. They are all going to wake up in the morning and fix everything. He’s sure of it. Well, he’s not sure, but he’s cautiously optimistic and quite possibly desperate. Such is the life of a not-psychic but something ticking time bomb of a detective. 

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written Dirk fic in like 5 years so I hope it works well and I captured the characters alright and that y'all enjoyed!


End file.
